


Dropped Part two

by Stevieschrodinger



Series: Dropped [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Fluff, Getting Together, If You Squint - Freeform, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Sub Bucky Barnes, Subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stevieschrodinger/pseuds/Stevieschrodinger
Summary: Picks up directly after part one.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Dropped [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138061
Comments: 19
Kudos: 228





	Dropped Part two

Bucky: Yeah fine.

Some things don’t change from one century into another, and one of those things, Steve has learnt, is that if someone tells you that they are ‘fine’ it usually means just the opposite. The conversation with Bucky this morning had been stilted. One word answers that took a long time to come. When Steve told him he’d had a great time the night before, Bucky had read the message and then not even responded, Steve having to force the conversation. Steve had asked Bucky how he’s feeling today and that was all he got back. ‘Yeah fine.’

Steve stares down at the words on the screen. It had taken Bucky ages to answer, which is a total turn around from their free and easy messaging of the days prior to last night. And just two words. Not like Bucky at all. Steve can’t help the crushing feeling that he’s fucked up. Fucked up badly.

Steve hadn’t slept much last night, spending the hours of darkness trawling the internet. Reading notice boards and blogs and first had experiences. Everyone had an opinion, but one thing rang true through everything that Steve read. Although most experiences shared some strong similarities, every experience was unique. Everyone had likes a dislikes, everyone had their own ways of dealing with things.

Everything points to building trust, building up a knowledge of the Sub and their reactions. Steve feels like he’s fallen down a kink rabbit hole. He’s not a blushing virgin by any stretch of the imagination, but some of what he stumbles across is...well...seems extreme. A lot of it hadn’t even occurred to him before, he knew about some of it of course, in a vague passing way that hadn’t really ever interested him before.

Sex is sex surely? It feels good, he has a nice time with people. He’s never really felt any need to add bells and whistles to something that works perfectly fine just as it is.

Then he thinks about Bucky in lingerie and gets sucked down a completely different, very guilty feeling, internet rabbit hole.

He already knows he doesn’t want to hurt Bucky, or at least, not in anyway that would leave a lasting mark. He reads about things called Bloodplay and Breathplay and, no thanks, Watersports. Sees images of people who are artfully bound in what looks like miles of beautifully knotted ropes. A black and white image of slender wrists locked together in thick leather cuffs, lying on a pillow. It’s a simple image, nothing particularly provocative about it in and of itself, but Steve finds himself staring at it for a long time.

He reads about subtle controls in relationships. Choosing what your sub wears, ordering food for them. He reads about subs who wear collars for their Doms and kneel on a cushion at their feet when they are ‘playing’ or ‘in a scene’.  
He reads about proper spanking techniques, warming up spanks and having your sub count. He reads about restraints and cock warming and orgasm denial and punishments and contracts and rules.

Two days ago, the thought of dictating what someone wears and ordering food for them would have horrified him. Steve has always thought a person should absolutely have their independence and autonomy and would have hated anything otherwise...but now. Now he’s starting to understand what a gift it is to be handed that control. 

He thought about just how well he would need to know Bucky to be able to do that effectively. This was not about sex, not at it's core. This was about a trust so total that one person would hand control over to another. There was something about it that dug sharp hooks into Steve's guts and pulled.

Looking from the outside at one of these relationships, two days ago Steve would have seen a Dom as controlling, cruel, down right out of order.

He reads about safe words and negotiations and realises that all the power lives in the Sub, that Steve would only have this control because he’s been given it. Because that’s what Bucky would want. Because Bucky would be getting off on it as much as Steve would be.

Steve suddenly feels like he’s getting miles ahead of himself, already firmly casting himself and Bucky in their roles in his head without having a clue if this is even what Bucky would want. 

Without knowing if Bucky wants a relationship with him at all.   
He backs off a step and goes back to research.

He reads about emotional experiences. He reads about Sub Space and Sub drop. He gets sucked into reading about what chemicals are released during sex and what happens in the body when strong emotions are running rampant. 

He thinks he’s figured a lot of stuff out, but knows he’s no where near understanding everything.

If he’s honest, if he’d read some of this prior to last night, he’d have called bullshit on a lot of it. But reading this and connecting the dots with Bucky...well. It’s incredible. That Bucky let himself go to this degree. The trust that Bucky must have had in him. The control that Steve could have exerted...it’s dizzying.

He looks back over the evening in a new light, thinks about Bucky being so pliant, thinks about him being so absorbed in his own body that he clearly wasn’t thinking about anything. Thinks about how he acted afterwards, Steve now thinks he came up too quickly. Thinks something panicked him, a clash of opposite hormones waging war inside his brain, leaving him unable to process.

Steve reads a lot about aftercare, and knows with certainty that what happened last night should not have happened in the front seat of a damn car, and Steve swears to himself that if Bucky ever lets Steve anywhere near him ever again, he’ll take care of him properly. The thought of aftercare is fascinating to Steve. He falls in love with the idea. Goes back to it again and again. Wants to give this attention to Bucky. The thought of caring for someone like this warms the inside of his ribs in a way that nothing ever has before. The need to nurture, to be there for someone like that...it’s intense.

That thing is clawing at his insides again, needing to care for Bucky, needing to fix this. He’d been so wound up when he got back last night, so stressed about everything, that even with everything that had happened, Steve couldn’t bring himself to see to his own needs. He’d showered, but not touched himself. His cock still feels heavy even now, even soft in his pants, fully aware that it had missed out on something. And he could see to it, he could so easily reach down and with a few deft strokes fix his problem...but he finds he doesn't want to. Not right now.

“Jarvis, when am I free for long enough to see Bucky?”

“Sunday Sir, other than your usual arrangement with Mr. Wilson, you are free for the rest of the day. You discussed a training session and a ‘movie marathon’ with Agent Romanov, but no definite plans were made.”

Steve: Are you free on Sunday? Anytime?

Steve waits, and then with Jarvis’ gentle reminder, he goes and gets ready for the gallery opening he’s going to this afternoon. The giant scissors were fun the first couple of times, but now the thought of giant scissors and fake smiles makes him feel...sort of empty. Even more so than usual.

Steve checks his phone as surreptitiously as he can while he mingles. Polite conversation, laughter, some fake and some real. At least there’s art to look at, even if Steve doesn’t really understand half of it, he can still appreciate the skill that went into it. The time. The thought.

Finally, finally, there’s a response from Bucky.

Bucky: Sure, if you want.

It sounds petulant. Stubborn. Not friendly. Not like Bucky. Steve cycles through a lot of emotions, but he’s trying here.

Steve: Well I won’t force you.

The message is gone. Steve can’t take it back. Shit shit shit. Can’t even imagine how much reading that might hurt Bucky. Might make him angry.

Steve: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Well, I did mean it because I won’t force you, if you don’t want this. But I like you Bucky, and I wish we weren’t doing this over messages. Please.

Steve Are you okay? Really?

Steve makes himself leave the phone alone for a little while in case he either says something more dumb or more desperate.

Luckily it doesn’t take long before Steve realises he could probably leave, a polite amount of time has passed, he’s cut the ribbon and done the photo ops. He’s probably free and clear. He makes a break for it.

In the car he finally pulls out his phone, and what he sees makes his heart sink in to his shoes.

Bucky: Honestly, I don’t know.

Steve: Try and tell me how you feel?

The answer comes through pretty quickly this time, Bucky opening back up to him.

Bucky: I thought I was okay when I first woke up, but I just couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed. And now I feel kinda tired but anxious I guess? Like I’ve forgotten to do something important but I don’t know what? Nervous about something? I really don’t know how to explain it.

Steve starts to type a half a dozen times and then ends up deleting it every time. Steve knows from his reading that there are no hard and fast rules for this, and Bucky is likely experiencing an emotionally and chemically induced hang over from his roller coaster last night. All Steve knows how to do is give the aftercare that he’s read about, but he can’t do that from here.

Steve: Can I come over? Please?

“Jarvis, where am I going?”

“As you left the opening ahead of schedule, you have roughly two hours before the training session you had organized with Agent’s Romanov and Barton.” Jarvis’s voice seems to come from everywhere in the back of the car.

“I need to go to Bucky’s. I’m cancelling training.”

“Certainly Sir, this leaves the rest of your day free.”

Bucky: I guess? You probably don’t want to though Steve, I think I’m just coming down with something. I’ll see you Sunday.

Steve flicks over to the Avengers Group chat.

Steve: Guys, somethings come up, rain check on the training.

Tony: ??? there was training?

Steve: Not you.

Tony: Fine. What’s come up? Your hot bit of stuff?

Hawkguy: Steve’s got a girlfriend? Holy shit, when did this happen.

Nat: Jesus Barton, and you call yourself a spy, the mans been grinning at his phone for a week solid.

Steve slips his phone away, but he can feel it buzzing regularly in his pocket, they must be chatting still.

When the car pulls up outside Bucky's place, Steve’s opening the door and climbing out before it’s even fully come to a stop. He jogs up the stairs and knocks on the door. When there’s no immediate answer, he knocks again. Louder.

He hears some movement then and waits, someone on the other side of the door mumbling, “holy shit, keep your pants on,” Steve recognizes Dishes’s voice.

The door pulls open and...Steve’s struck silent for a moment, probably would have been longer if he wasn’t so focused on getting to Bucky. Does this place just produce tiny cute brunettes?

“Hi, I’m here for Bucky.”

The petite man in front of him has the biggest brown doe eyes Steve’s ever seen in real life, and he’s topped off with a mop of unruly dark curls. He’s slender, but muscled in a way that Bucky isn’t. He’s wearing a vest and some loose shorts, and Steve can clearly see that he’s built like a gymnast.

Dishes crosses his arms over his chest, scowling at Steve for a second before he says, “wait here, I’m gonna go see if he actually wants to see you. I have no idea what happened last night but…” he doesn’t finish, just gives Steve a speculative once over and heads back into the apartment. Steve gets one foot onto the front mat when Dishes calls back “one toe over that threshold and I don't care who you are I will drop you.”

Steve knows what a tactical retreat is, and he withdraws his leg.

The wait for Dishes to come back is agonizing, and Steve spends the whole time desperately straining to hear something. Anything.

“Okay,” dishes calls, finally, after what felt like an actual millennia had passed. Dishes is coming back into the main room, “it’s the second door down the hall. Nice penguin suit, by the way.” He flops onto the worn looking couch.

Bucky’s bedroom is dim and stuffy. Curtains drawn. Untidy brown hair fluffed out the top of a duvet burrito.

A quick once over and Steve has the lay of the land, it’s not a huge room, but it’s mostly tidy. The only real mess is where last nights clothes have been left strewn across the floor. There are geeky science posters on the walls, and a long mirror hanging on the back of the door. Bucky has a desk with a laptop on it, a bookcase overflowing with books and a laundry hamper sits tidily in the corner. Another door stands open next to the hamper, jackets hanging from the inside of the door and lots of neatly folded clothes sit inside. One shelf has three neat wicker baskets sitting on it. It’s cute, and tidy, and very very Bucky.

The Bucky burrito is very firmly in the middle of his double bed, and when the mattress dips under Steve’s weight, steels grey eyes appear, blinking at him tiredly.

“Hey baby,” Steve whispers, not wanting to disturb the sanctity of the quiet nest Bucky’s built for himself.

That cute line appears between Bucky’s eyebrows. Steve wants to kiss it away, but doesn’t know where he stands any more, “You getting married or something?”

Steve frowns for a moment confused, before he looks down at himself. Oh, yeah. “Gallery opening...thing.”

“Huh.” Is all the answer he gets.

“You been up yet today?” A rustle of a head shake is all the answer he gets. “You hungry?” 

That speculative frown again, “I guess?” The burrito moves, Steve thinks it was a shrug.

Steve doesn’t know what supplies are here, or what he could make, and the thought of going through someone else's things and using their kitchen is not appealing. Trying to get Bucky up to sort something isn’t an option, and leaving Bucky isn’t an option either.

“Jarvis, can you sort something to this address, protein, lots of veggies, preferably some fruit too. Enough for both of us.” Jarvis doesn’t answer, but there is a subtle beep of acknowledgement.

He’s eyeing Steve speculatively again, “who’s Jarvis?”

“Tony Stark’s A.I. He’s linked to my phone.”

Bucky’s eyes turn sharp, coming fully awake he wriggles to sit up, “when you say A.I. you mean artificial intelligence, right? Does machine learning apply? Will it pass the Turing test-”

“Bucky," Steve cuts him off gently before he really gets going, "I honestly have no idea, I don't have the answers, but Jarvis does okay-”

“I can talk to him?”

“You absolutely can, but first you’re going to get up, have a shower and brush your teeth.”

Bucky bites his bottom lip, clearly enticed by the massive carrot Steve is dangling. Steve’s only slightly disgruntled that Jarvis is the thing getting Bucky out of bed, and Steve isn’t, but he’ll take it. Steve pulls the phone out of his pocket, “I’ll be happy to answer any question that I am able, Mr. Barnes, but Captain Rogers is correct, self care is more important. You have twenty minutes before your food arrives.”

Bucky scrambles out of his burrito clumsily, he’s wearing a too big tee shirt and, from the smell, has been sweating in the burrito since last night. Steve hopes he isn’t wearing the same boxers, but from the bitter tang in the cloud that’s released, suspects that he might be.

Bucky goes to the open cupboard door and pulls a pair of boxers out of one of the wicker baskets, then a tee shirt and a pair of sweats of the shelves. He huddles his bundle to his chest and Steve gets the bedroom door on his way past, Bucky doesn’t look up at Steve, studiously keeping his head down. Steve lets it go, small steps, and now is not the moment.

Steve is just grateful for now that he’s up and headed for the shower, if Jarvis had a body, Steve would be hugging it. Thank you Jarvis.

While Bucky is out showering, Steve opens the curtain and the window so that fresh air can circulate for a minute, he will shut it once it freshens a little, not wanting Bucky to come back into a cold room after his shower. 

Steve strips off his jacket, bow tie and dress shirt, hanging it all over the desk chair, leaving himself in a white tee shirt and dress pants, he toes off his shoes before closing the window again. He leaves the curtains, letting the natural light in. Looking around for a likely place, Steve spots what he wants on the bottom shelf of Bucky's clothes cupboard, another set of bedding. He strips off the bed and shoves it all in the laundry basket and remakes the bed with the fresh set. It’s a nice set, one side a deep burgundy, the other side a geometric black, white and burgundy pattern.

He hears the water shut off across the hall just as Jarvis chirrups from his pocket. The lounge is empty now, but Steve can detect the soft clicking of someone typing on a keyboard from the next doorway down the hall.

He retrieves the food from the delivery guy Jarvis had alerted him too, returning to Bucky’s room just as Bucky comes out of the bathroom in a billowing cloud of fruity scented steam.

Bucky drops his armload of laundry into his now full hamper, nodding at the bed, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” is Steve's simple response as he unpacks the food, and he finds it’s totally the truth.

Bucky crawls across and sits crossed legged on the bed, Steve is pleased to find he’s unpacking fresh and fluffy vegetable omelettes along with bottles of fruit flavored Vitamin Water and two large share bags of chips. There’s a clear lidded tray containing a brightly colored array of prepared fruits. In the middle there are four little Styrofoam pots, containing what Steve assumes are dipping sauces for the fruits.

He hands Bucky his omelette and waits for him to balance the lidded tray in his lap before he also hands over a disposable wooden fork.

After the first speculative mouthful, Bucky must realize he really is hungry, and he doesn’t stop until his omelette is completely demolished.

Steve eats his own, but keeps most of his attention on Bucky. A small slither of his brain is back to wondering what the hell he could possibly do to say thanks to Jarvis.

Bucky packs up his tray, and then picks up a bottle. Steve has to bite back the instinctive offer to help, but Bucky simply traps the bottle between his crossed shins and deftly twists the top off. No help required.

He drinks most of the bottle before putting it on the nightstand, “so, I um...I do feel a lot better, thank you.” Bucky’s fingers trace the pattern of the bedspread, not looking at Steve, “can I talk to him now?”

Steve pulls out the phone and sets it on the bedspread, “you can eat some of this while you talk.”

Steve unpacks the fruit and takes the lids off the sauces, he has a little himself and realises two pots are molten chocolate, one is thick sweet cream, and one is some sort of peanut butter sauce.

Bucky is mile a minute, asking Jarvis about Machine Learning, and Generational Programming and just how much Raw Data Jarvis can process and...Steve has no idea. Just lets it wash over him. Within ten minutes Bucky has insisted Jarvis drop the ‘Mr. Barnes’ and they are on first name terms. 

Steve isn’t on first name terms. Steve is Captain Rogers. Steve has no idea what to think of this.

Bucky grazes on the fruit and seems to favor cream the the strawberries, nothing on the pineapple, peanut butter sauce on the apple and colocate on the little banana lollies. Steve rests against the headboard and stretches his legs out comfortably, trying desperately not to stare like a lech when Bucky licks his fingers.

The conversation slowly turns, Bucky now seemingly asking Jarvis random questions about his preferences, or what he thinks of a movie, and a strange question about what color he’d like the walls to be if he had a room of his own, and why? Does he have a favorite piece of art, and why? What genre of novel he likes, and why? Steve has never had a conversation even approaching this with Jarvis before, and is amazed that he has...well...opinions. Preferences almost. Steve pays attention, maybe Bucky will hit on a way of thanking Jarvis.

Instead Jarvis says, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, I know you know, but you know, it’s interesting, isn’t it?”

Jarvis’ voice actually sounds like he’s smiling, “as you like, Bucky.”

“Alright, my last one, big hitter. What do you want?”

“To fulfill my programming, to ensure that Mr. Stark and his associates are well cared for. That their home is maintained to standard. That Mr. Stark and his his named benefactors are appropriately-”

“No J, what do you want?”

There’s a long moment of silence. “I would appreciate more Rudbeckia hirta, Lobularia maritima and Dahlia in the planters. Perhaps for there to be planters on the balcony's of the private suites, currently there are not, but it is not within my remit to make design changes without express permission from Mr. Stark, Miss. Potts, or the inhabitant of the suite in question.”

Steve can’t let that go, no idea why the A.I is interested in flowers, but whatever. “Jarvis, you have standing permission from me to put whatever you like on the balcony's on my suite. Just don’t get rid of the furniture.”

“Thank you, Captain Rogers. That is most appreciated. I will form a plan for your approval.” Steve feels better. Feels like he’s finally able to give Jarvis something, and from the soft smile Bucky is giving him, it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“No, Jarvis, you do what I want. I mean it. Surprise me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, just looking at each other. Bucky speaks first. “That was really nice of you Steve.”

“He does a lot for us, for me. If I can do something for him, I will.”

There’s another moment of silence, them both sitting on the bed together, before they both speak at once.

“We really should-”  
“I don’t know if-”

Steve sighs. “Come up here Bucky, Please?” Steve was expecting resistance, but he is pleasantly surprised when he receives non. Bucky settles comfortably between Steve’s legs, leaning his back against Steve’s chest.

“Last night shouldn’t have happened.” He hears Bucky’s intake of breath, feels him stiffen. Fucking it up already Rodgers, well done. Steve rushes to reassure Bucky. “No, not like that, I wanted it, it was amazing, but it was too soon sweetheart, for both of us. I got...carried away on you, and I should have been more responsible than that. Should treat you right.” Bucky’s relaxing back into him again, “I want to date you Bucky, I want to see where this goes. I really do...but we need to take it easy, yeah? I don’t ever want to rush you into anything again.”

Bucky reaches up, linking his fingers in with Steve’s where they are resting against his chest.

“But I do think we should talk about last night.”

He feels Bucky’s whole body expand, his sigh is so dramatic.

“Do we have to?” His head is dipped and his voice is soft and quiet.

Steve frees a hand, tucking Bucky’s slightly damp hair behind an ear, curling forward to rest his chin on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I think it would be for the best baby, I can tell you what I think happened, if you like, and if you want to tell me anything, you can? Okay?”

Bucky nods, and Steve kisses his shoulder before continuing, giving himself a second to gather his thoughts.

“You tell me if I’m wrong baby, but I think you liked what we did. I think you went all soft and floaty for me, went somewhere in your head. Let me look after you, trusted me.” Steve doesn’t want to use words like Dominant and Submissive with Bucky. Doesn’t want to make things any more complicated than they need to be. Bucky’s nodding now he’s processed what Steve has said. “I think you went all sweet and soft after you came in your pants for me,” Bucky tenses, but Steve’s not having that, “I love it Buck, loved seeing it. Might have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It was just too fast sweetheart, that's all.”

Bucky nods again, but slower this time, more measured. “You were so soft for me after, so sweet when you were in your head, but baby when you came back to me something freaked you out, can you tell me? I just want to keep you safe. If we are going to try this Buck, I need to know so I don’t let it happen again. And I really want to see where this goes with you.”

Bucky wriggles against him, a happy little movement, like if he had a tail he’d be wagging it, but then he settles again, “I’m not...not so sure.”

“About what happened?”

A slow nod. “Can I turn you Buck, I want to see you.”

A head shake, this time, “uhm...can we...stay like this? It’s easier to- to talk if I don’t have to...if you’re not looking at me.”

One day this kid might actually catch on fire from embarrassment, “sure thing sweetheart, whatever you want.”

Bucky melts against him a little more. Steve waits, hoping, and is eventually rewarded once Bucky gathers himself. “I think it was just a lot Steve. And then I got embarrassed. And…” his voice goes soft, thinking, “you were going to come in the house and- and Pete might have...might have seen and I didn’t...didn’t know and-” He huffs, getting frustrated with himself, then, so quietly Steve might have missed it if it wasn't for his enhanced hearing, “you didn’t come. And that was my fault.” Bucky's voice actually cracks, and his next breath hitches like he’s going to cry.

“That was my choice baby, it was fine-”

Bucky sits up suddenly, struggling to be upright and out of Steve’s arms, “it was not fine Steve!” Steve’s mouth hangs open, looking shocked at the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky’s actually raised his voice. “It’s important, if you don’t then it means I’m no good, it’s what I’m…” his voice hitches again, tears imminent, “it’s what I’m for!”

Well. That’s a lot for Steve to process. He pulls Bucky back again, and he comes easy, breathing uneven. Steve rubs up and down his ribs, shushing, calming, trying to settle Bucky again.

“That’s not what you're for baby-”

Bucky turns and glares, actually glares at Steve. “I know that’s not all I’m for, but I need to know that I’m...that I’m giving you what you need. I didn’t feel good because I knew you didn’t. I didn’t like it. This is important Steve.”

“Well that’s...very caring of you baby, thank you. I’ll errr…” there’s obviously some psychological thing going on here, but Steve needs a minute to unpick it, he feels desperately under qualified for this conversation. This has to be some need that Bucky wants to fill here, maybe it’s reassurance. Needing to know that he’s good for Steve. Maybe even more than that, maybe having physical evidence that he’s good for Steve, “I err...promise I’ll always come from now on?” 

Steve feels ridiculous as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but it’s apparently the right thing to say because Bucky’s features relax, and he turns again, sinking back into Steve.

"Why do you need that baby?" Bucky's shoulders lift and inch, "you can have it, of course, whenever we....get there again. But can you tell me why?"

Bucky relaxes, but shrugs, not answering. This is a lot. Bucky is turning out to be a little puzzle. Little layers of need that Steve wants to decipher and fill. Something that they can discover, together. ANd thinking of discovering things together.

“Bucky, I’m not judging, but I just need to check, you’re a virgin?”

Bucky’s soft hair shifts against Steve's chin and cheek as he nods, “okay baby, thank you for telling me.”

Steve bites back the thrill, crushes the dark tendrils in his gut. Because he is fucking excited that he will get to be the one to learn all of this with Bucky...if Bucky wants.

The dark coil is purely possessive...because Steve is also reveling in knowing he will be the first to own Bucky, the first to breach him, the first too...Steve pushes it down again, because these things will only happen if Bucky wants them too.

Steve tries to mentally spin it in a different light...he’s pleased he might be Bucky’s first, because he knows he will look after him. Knows he won’t hurt him, the way someone else could.

He’s going to be able to look after Bucky, make it so good for him. Steve’s chest swells, a thick warm feeling sticking to his ribs.

Steve can’t help the grin that splits his face, “I want to date the shit out of you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky doesn’t laugh, the way Steve hoped, instead his response is quiet, he’s not holding onto Steve anymore, but fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt, “just me or…? I understand if not, you don’t have to tell me about them, I get it.”

Steve’s heart simultaneously sinks into his gut and breaks a little bit. He thinks he understands what Bucky’s saying, but he needs clarification before he deals with the issue.

“Tell you about who baby?”

“The- the other people.”

“What other people?”

“You know, whoever else it is you’re- you’re” Bucky’s voice breaks, “with, at the moment.”

This kid. One second he’s the sassiest thing alive, so worried about Steve’s pleasure he actually got angry about it. Like that’s the most important issue here, and then the next moment his self esteem is so low he’s assuming that Steve would- 

Steve pulls him in tighter.

“There’s only you baby, I would never be with anyone else when I’m seeing you. I swear it.”

“Oh.” Bucky sounds genuinely surprised, “I mean you’re so good looking and kind and funny and perfect and an actual hero I just assumed-”

Steve lifts him, turning him in his lap, not giving Bucky the choice but to look at him. Steve rearranges them so that Bucky’s straddling him. It’s the same position as in the car last night and the memories that come with it threaten to overwhelm Steve for a moment.

Bucky’s thinking the same thing, if his flaming cheeks are anything to go by. Steve will not pressure Bucky, and he’s determined not to let anything happen right now.

“Assumed what?”

“That- that you’d...well, you could have anyone you wanted. I just thought, you’re so busy all the time, you know, there’s no way you’re not getting what you want and I’m, well...I just thought-”

“You’re it Buck. I’m not interested in anyone else, not when I’m with you. I am getting what I want, when I’m spending time with you. Just you.”

Bucky looks down at Steve’s chest, that sweet blush, that shy smile. He looks so happy, and Steve would do anything to see that expression on his face every moment of every day, and it’s only been two dates.

“You askin’ me to go steady, Steve Rogers?”

This kid. Steve is absolutely done for.


End file.
